Your name is Jaune Arc, and you are a nobody. Always have been, always will be.

You had big dreams, though - become a Huntsman, save the world and all the junk -, but you know better now. You know that it takes a certain kind of person to stand up to a world that pushes you down.

You are not that kind of person.

And so you ran from home, espousing some spiel to your parents about 'independence' and 'getting away from your sisters' shadows'. They let you, no matter how reluctantly, you're seventeen now, after all. And now you're here in Vale City. A new start, a new chance to find worth.

You chew your bottom lip. It's far, far larger than the comfy little village you used to call your home - it's almost impersonal, even. You're not sure if you like that. Vale seems malicious in the evening light, Dust lamps bathing the streets in luminescence as people walk past massive, sturdy buildings.

Panic swirls, coloring your thoughts. You feel nauseous, and it's not because of your motion sickness acting up, for once. What are you going to do? You have no plan, no friends, no resources (other than some lien given to your by your father, but even that will dry up soon if you don't get a source of income). Nothing, you have nothing.

"Hey," someone says from beside you, almost making you jump out of your own skin. "You okay there?"

You snap your head to them, so fast that they take half a step back. She's really cute, beautiful even. Your heart spikes at that; you gulp. Your spit does not go down easy. She looks sort of caught-off guard by your reaction, not that you can blame her. You're pretty sure you look more skittish than a cornered rat.

"Y-yeah." She doesn't seem convinced. "I'm just...a little overwhelmed right now."

She smiles at that, sympathetic. "Vale can be a bit much for first-time visitors." She appraises you, then. "Where you from?"

"A village a little ways from Vale." You take the opportunity to examine her a little bit closer. She has white hair, cut to her shoulders and worn in a cute little pony tail; and her eyes are an iridescent green. Her features are delicate, and ageless. She could be anywhere from her twenties to her forties.

The most eye-catching thing about her though, is her outfit.

A black suit with a red tie, crimson shades in her coat pocket. The outfit is clearly made for men, but she makes it work. Business woman, maybe? But what's that bulge you spy at the side of her suit jacket?

"Checking me out, huh?"

You startle out of your examination of her, seeing her watching you with a spark of mischief in her eyes, and a smirk that makes your heart want to beat out of your chest. You look away, mumbling an apology, face burning. You inwardly curse your weakness for women in suits.

You hear her chuckle. "Aw. Chin up." Your eyes widen as you feel her delicate, soft fingers wrap around your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. She winks, as you struggle a little in her grasp. "I'm not mad."

And then she releases you. You take a step back from her, much to her amusement. It's not like you're usually this much of a gibbering wreck when dealing with girls. But you've never encountered someone this...this forward.

"Now I know you aren't from the city. I'd have known if such a cute guy like you was around." You're a bit embarrassed that she's having so much fun at your expense, and she must see it in you off-put expression, as she suddenly changes stances - adopting a welcoming smile that you're not sure you can trust.

"The name's Ivory." She winks, leaving a hand outstretched for you to shake. "But you can call me your tour-guide for the evening."

You're not gonna lie, you're pretty intimidated by her, but your mother didn't raise a hooligan. You gingerly accept her hand shake, trying - and failing - not to let how her thumb brushes against your knuckles affect you. Her smile widens as she feels the tense, almost robotic way you shake her hand. You feel like a particularly juicy piece of meat in front of her, with how she looks at you.

"My name's Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you." You'd pull off your whole usual M.O when introducing yourself to cute girls, but you simply can't muster up the gumption. "And what did you mean by being my 'tour-guide'?"

You attempt to break the hand shake, but she's still gripping your hand, caressing your knuckles in slow, pleasurable circles. Are...are you about to be taken advantage of right now? That actually happens in real life? You're not sure whether to praise your luck, or to curse it.

She makes a cute little humming noise, taking a step towards you, to regain the distance that had been lost. She opens her mouth, revealing a tiny, red tongue that she runs over the surface of her lips, glossing over them and leaving a sheen that glints in the Dust-light. The motion leaves your mouth dreadfully dry. She leans in - closer than you'd say you're comfortable with, and just when you're about to push her away (though you're not sure if you can muster up the strength of will to really try), she stops.

She's so close, close enough that you're inhaling her scent - a heady, alcoholic aroma that's swirling around in your mind, pushing away all of your thoughts. You're starting to feel light-headed.

She playfully blows some air at you, tickling your nose. And giggling as you recoil slightly from the cool sensation.

"It's exactly what it sounds like," she purrs. "I'm gonna show you around. And show you how we have...fun here in Vale..."

She winks.

"You up for it?"

Your gulp is very loud to your own ears.

"Okay. Yeah. Sure." You try to look confident, sure of yourself, but you're pretty sure of the fact that you're failing quite horribly. You back away, tugging lightly to free the hand that's still in her grasp, she lets you, that perpetual smirk still on her face.

"Great!" She beams, turning on her heel, and starting to walk in a seemingly random direction. For a second you think she's going to leave you here alone in the cool Valean air with nothing but the occasional passersby to keep you company, and you're not sure if you would like that. But then she looks over her shoulder at you, flashing you a faux-annoyed expression. "Come on, the night's still young!" And then she keeps walking.

You contemplate just running away, but a second later you shake your head and go after her. It would be awfully rude if you left after agreeing to her offered 'tour'. You fall into a brisk jog to catch up to her, and when you're beside her (but with a healthy distance to separate you two) you adopt a more sedate pace.

As the two of you walk, your surroundings shift: buildings shift from clean and well-maintained, to vandalized and dilapidated; more people walk the streets, and you spot some unsavory folks eyeing the two of you with hints of greed in their eyes; perhaps the atmosphere is the most dramatic change of all, though - where before it had been quiet, but safe, now whispers linger in the night air, laughing too, It feels dangerous, in this part of Vale.

Despite your efforts, paranoia clouds your mind. Are you being lured somewhere. To be mugged? Kidnapped? Murdered?

You shake you head. No, of course not. You're being ridiculous - while you've only known Ivory for a very short while, she didn't strike you as the type of person to do that. You're sure that while her intentions might not be strictly benign, she wouldn't do anything malicious either. Some would say that you're being too trusting of a literal stranger. But it's like how Mom always used to say. 'Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.'

Having said that, though. You really wanna know where you're going. If only to ease your nerves.

"So where are we going?" You ask her after a little while of walking, shooting her an inquiring look. Green eyes shimmer as she tilts her head at you, as if considering your question.

"Well..." She taps her chin, face scrunching up in adorable befuddlement. She reminds you of one of your younger sisters, when she's like this, and not making you want to combust out of embarrassment. Which is quite remarkable, really - considering she's roughly equal to your not insignificant height, and most likely older than you.

"Wouldn't it be more exciting for you if it was a surprise?" She asks you, voice dipping until you can barely hear her, turning from predatory and mature to meek and innocent in an instant. She's closer than you remember her being - she must have been subtly walking closer to you, with you being none the wiser. You gulp as her shoulders touch yours.

You quickly make some more distance between you two, squeaking. She giggles as you look away from her.

"Ah. I guess so..." You find yourself mumbling.

You try to ignore the impossible woman walking beside you, shying away as she attempts to close the distance. Eventually, you hear something. A dull thrum of music, it's distant, but unmistakable in its almost annoying pomp. You notice people walking to and from the building, and a long line of people in flamboyant and borderline scandalous clothing forming standing in front of said building.

"Is that where we're going?" You ask.

Ivory nods, grinning. "Come on," she says, hurrying her pace. "I wanna show you the funnest place in Vale."

You hurry your pace to match hers, lest you be left in her dust. As you near the building - large, and almost antiquated. Tinted windows glinting with the dimmer Dust-lights of this time, and from the large neon sign glowing a dull crimson that denotes this establishment as 'The Club' - you're taken aback by the sheer number of people wanting to get in. From Vacuans, to Atleasians; from humans, to Faunus. It seems everyone wants to get into The Club. No matter who they are.

But they're barred by the bouncers, black and crimson suits, with crimson shades and ebony hats. A familiar outfit.

"You work here?" You ask Ivory, shocked. Ivory nods, and pulls on you sleeve, when you make to integrate into the line. When you shoot her a quizzical look, she shakes her head, and instead leads you to the front, bypassing the line entirely.

When you move to question her actions, she shushes you, simply winking and whispering. "Trust me."

You get some very nasty sneers and remarks as you make your way up the line. You try not to let it bother you, keeping your head down. Ivory doesn't even seem to care. You stop in front of the bouncers, who likely recognize Ivory.

"Hey," she greets the bouncers with a dismissive wave of a hand. "Let us in." You gape at Ivory's disrespect, sure that the dangerous and visibly armed looking men are going to throw a fit. Instead, they just nod respectfully, stepping to the side and ignoring the hollers of the line of party-goers. She enters the club, through the peculiar steel doors that serves as the entrance, a swagger in her step. When you move to follow her, the bouncers block your way, glowering. You shrink back.

"The blonde's with me," Ivory calls out, not even deigning to look back. She's almost a different woman here, cold - with an aura of authority around her. The bouncers look at each other, shrug, and eventually let you pass.

Immediately, you feel the air shift. Pounding, rhythmic music drowns out all other sounds - you can hardly hear yourself think anymore. The scent of alcohol soaks into the very carpet you're standing on, in the walls, the ceiling. And this is just the lobby. What's the club proper like?

You feel someone touch your shoulder, you turn your eyes to look at Ivory. She looks stunning in this light. With her black suit, not fully able to hide the swell of her breasts and her green eyes almost glittering. There's no trace of the calm, in control woman from before. She's back to being the teasing Ivory, judging by the smirk she shoots your way.

"Well?" She asks somewhat impatiently.

"What?"

"Music didn't already deafen you, did it?" You rub your head a bit sheepishly, inclining your head in apology. Ivory rolls her eyes fondly.

"I said. Do you wanna go have some fun?"

You look away. "I've, uh, never been to a club before." It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but its true - your village never had something like a club.

Ivory taps her chin, making that adorable thinking face again. You struggle to not stare, lest you be caught and mercilessly teased for all of eternity. "That settles it, then." She seems to have come to a decision, leveling a finger at your face.

"Settles what?" You ask, confused.

"I'm going to show you the wonders of clubbing, of course!" She answers, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You open your mouth, to perhaps object, but she's already making way to the club proper, shooting you a maniacal grin. Somehow, you know that she'll make you pay if you don't some with. So, sighing and bemoaning your fate, you follow after her.

If you though the lounge was overwhelming, then the club proper was something beyond that. A veritable wall of bodies gyrated in the dance floor, dancing to the almost ear-rupturing music, though it would be sort of misleading to call it dancing - more like a gyration of the body, the grinding of flesh on flesh. It's too much. You turn away. But no matter where you turn, you can still smell it.

Sweat. Alcohol. This place should smell awful. Instead it smells almost enticing.

"Amazing isn't it?" You feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, and for once, you don't react in a flustered manner, still in shock. There's just so much going on. A guy gets slapped by a girl. Two women are making out in the corner. Someone downs shot after shot of something murky and certainly alcoholic, to the cheering of his friends. This is the largest congregation of people that you've ever seen.

"Yeah." You nod dumbly, as Ivory leads you to the main bar, where a large man dressed in a long-sleeved buttoned shirt, with a red tie, under a sleeveless black vest is polishing a shot glass. He has slicked black raven hair, a trimmed beard, and a severe frown on his face. His eyes lock onto the pair of you as you approach, favoring Ivory with a smile, and you with a raised brow.

"Ivory." The man greets.

"Junior," Ivory greets back.

Ivory takes a seat on one of the vacant stools, beckoning you to the same to the one at her side. Instead you take the one a seat further away, to which she snickers at, Junior following suit as he watches your byplay.

"Who's this?" He gestures at you. You feel a little bit offended that he isn't asking you yourself, but you just keep your trap shut.

"His name's Jaune, he's a new arrival who I'm showing around Vale." Junior raises an eyebrow at that.

"Awfully generous of you." He points out, to which Ivory shrugs.

"What can I say? I'm a generous gal."

You feel like you're missing a lot of context for this conversation.

Someone calls Junior over - an orange-haired man wearing a bowler hat -, to which he grunts. Setting the glass down and leaving with a nod to Ivory and you.

"Who was that?" You ask, intrigued.

"Why? Jealous?" Ivory scoots over, taking a seat closer to you. You take a seat further away as a consequence. She laughs.

"He's my boss, the owner of this club." she eventually relents."Hei 'Junior' Xiong. He likes taking the bartender's spot once and while, to keep a personal eye on things y,know?"

You nod slowly.

"So," Ivory starts, grinning at you, elbows propped against the bar. "We're at The Club. We can do a lot of stuff here." She bats her eyelashes at you. "And we've got the whole night to do it. What do you wanna do first?"

"How about dancing?" You ask, eager to do something that you actually have some measure of competence and talent in. Ivory looks surprised at your choice, and you don't blame her - you don't exactly carry yourself like a masterful dancer -, but she doesn't seem opposed to the idea.

"Dancing, huh?" She asks, and then she nods a second later, grinning. "Yeah, I can dig that." She gets up, hauling you with, ignoring your objections all the while.

"You sure you're any good, blondie?" She asks mockingly, practically dragging you to the dance-floor, skillfully gliding past shambling drunks and the like. You bristle at that, at the insinuation you're anything but stellar at dancing. You didn't suffer through all the humiliation of dancing lessons - forced onto you by your mother and sisters - just to be mocked. You'll show her just how good you are!

"Bet I'm better than you," you shoot back. Ivory laughs, making you bristle as she makes a clawing motion with her free hand.

"Ooh, cat's got claws," she mocks.

You and Ivory are a few steps away from the sea of bodies gyrating on the crimson floor. You gulp as you near the dance-floor. It looks so...intimidating up close like this.

A second later and you shake your head, expression steeling with resolve. You won't let something like this stop you! You'll wipe that stupid smirk off Ivory's face, show her who's the real Dancing King! You leave behind your doubts, your insecurities, and take Ivory's hand in your own as you enter the sea of bodies, the dance-floor.

"Whoa, where'd the dork go?" Ivory says, looking like the one being taken-aback, for once. Is that a tint of red you spy pooling in her cheeks, or is it the lighting? You smirk at her, confident and at ease. You're in your element here, and she's already written the cheque on her own fate - you're gonna pay her back, a thousand-fold, for all of her teasing.

You find a spot that has relatively few people, never taking your hand off hers. You feel light, you feel like you're somebody here. Confidence fills you, a foreign but empowering feeling that births goose-bumps on your skin, and puts a grin that's probably more at home on Ivory's face than yours.

"He left the moment we got onto the dance-floor," you tell her, placing both hands on her hips as you finally find a spot that both of you can comfortably dance in. Blue eyes, smoldering meet hers. She's the one who looks away. You smirk.

"Now are you gonna talk?" You purr, words flowing from your tongue with the greatest of ease. "Or are you gonna dance?"

She seems to have regained some of her fire at that, you note, looking defiant and willing to try to put you in your place. She takes your hands and places them scandalously low on her hips, almost touching her plump behind. She looks at your face, looking for any sign of embarrassment, or meekness. She won't find any; your concentration is iron-clad.

"Alright, hotshot." There's heat in her voice this time, a challenging tone that sets the blood in your veins aflame in a way that's both unfamiliar and completely exhilarating. "Let's see if you're as good as you seem to think you are."

[Play Panic! At The Disco: Casual Affair]

A brief silence. A new song starts, you nod your head to the beat, shuffling your feet as you push your chest against hers, feeling but ignoring the swell of her breasts pushing against you. Ivory squeak, squeaks; and this time you're sure that it isn't the lighting, that she's blushing. You're not the hunted this time, you're the hunter. And you won't let that go. Won't let her reclaim her equilibrium, you'll sweep her off her feet, leave her breathless. Helpless.

You aren't familiar with dancing like this, its more aggressive than you're used to - more grinding and sexual and primal than regular dancing. But you're a quick study with things like these, and good footwork is universal. You pay attention to your surroundings, how other people dance and push and sway to the music; and you mimic them.

You start off slow, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Ivory's hands are on your shoulders. There's electricity in the air, zapping at the both of you and filling you with an energy that begs for you to keep moving. Eventually, you speed up as you gain confidence, as the stumbling becomes nonexistent, as you truly start to master this new and exciting form of dance. You ramp it up, pulling off more and more complex moves.

You don't do anything too scandalous with Ivory of course, instead you leave lingering touches and promises of something even greater. She doesn't expose much flesh - dressed in a suit and pants as she is - but a confident smirk and a steadfastly locked gaze can do much more than a careless grope, if done right. You can see it in her eyes, she wants more.

You sway to the music, dragging Ivory in your very own whirlwind of motion that she barely keeps up with. People stop and stare at both of you, but you don't pay any attention to them, keeping your eyes on Ivory and Ivory only. You bring her close to you in a move that has people gasping, twirling her around with dexterous hands and motions perfected and now refitted to better suit the situation. She lands gently against your chest, and she doesn't actually realize it until she comes into contact with your chest. Her eyes widen, and you feel her heart hammering, beating into sync with your own.

You smell mint on her breath - she's so close. Everything but this place, this single moment in time ceases to exist. You forget yourself in that moment. Forget everything but her.

It's hot. Too hot. Your throat is dry. Too dry. You're holding Ivory in your arms, watching her lips glisten, feeling her heart beat against yours. The world is still, as if its holding its breath, to see what you're going to do. You smell mint. And you come to a decision. Even if its one you don't want to make, its for the best - you know its for the best.

The stars have aligned in your favor to give this one opportunity. A cute, no, beautiful woman against your chest, looking meekly up at you. Even the crowd around you seems silent, even the music does not register in your hazy mind. Its almost picturesque - in a way. Passion found in a place like this, your sisters would be swooning at the concept. Lots of guys would kill to be in your shoes, would already have kissed her at this point. She looks into you, and you're definitely into her. So what's the problem with kissing her?

You want nothing more than to take those cherry-sprinkled lips in yours, with a kiss that would sear itself into both of your hearts in an explosion of passion that would leave both of you reeling.

But explosions never last for long.

Lets say you kiss her, then what? Maybe it'll move on from there, with clothes being flung around, and you'd have some fun, maybe even have sex. But then what? Is that really enough, does that satisfy you? Just a one-night stand?

No, you realize, it doesn't.

Maybe its childish, and needlessly romantic. Maybe some people would even call it idiotic. But if you're gonna do something like that with someone, kiss someone, or well, fuck someone or anything like that - you want it to mean something. You want to do those things with someone you really understand and love,

And can you really say you feel those things about Ivory? You haven't even know her for a day!

So you very pointedly don't kiss Ivory, no matter what your stupid hormones tell you to do. Instead, you spin her back around, away from you - close, but not too close. You catch a storm brewing in her eyes, relief and disappointment and confusion and a thousand other things so tangled up that you can't even begin to make sense of it, so you don't. You just keep dancing, bobbing your head to the music, shuffling your feet to the beat.

You have fun, dancing the night away, watching Ivory smile and enjoy herself. Your shoulders are light, and you feel free for the first time in a long time. You feel like you've made the right decision. About coming to Vale. Not kissing Ivory. Everything...

But you don't have an infinite well of stamina, and you eventually tire. Ivory looks fresh compared to you, nothing but a light sheen of sweat on her face, even though she's wearing a suit in this sweltering heat.

"I," You pant, dragging your feet behind you. "I think I'm done for the night."

Ivory looks genuinely disappointed at that, then she catches herself, and looks away, cheeks rosy. She mumbles something under her breath. You can't hear it over the music.

"What was that?"

She looks grumpy at that, cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk. And you can't help but laugh.

"I said. Just one more song, please? My favorite song's coming up." She looks so earnest about it...you almost say yes on the spot.

"Alright." You nod, trying to ignore the stitch in your side. "I could stay for one more song. If it's for you."

She smiles, looking truly radiant. You move to place your hands on her hips again, but she shakes her head, moving to embrace you instead - leaving you sort of awkwardly standing there, unsure of what to do and where to put your hands.

"It's slower than what you'd expect from a club," she explains, lips painfully close to your ear. "Just put your arms around me." There's a hitch in her voice when she says that.

"Okay." You agree, after a second of hesitation, wrapping your arms around her and waiting for Ivory's song to start.

[Play Halsey: Gasoline]

It starts off slow, and like Ivory said, it's not what you'd expect to find in a club. A somber, almost depressing choice that honestly leaves you a bit baffled. This is Ivory's favorite song? You mean, it's not a bad song - in fact, it's quite good - but you'd never expect it from the cheerful woman. Does this say something about her?

You shake your head a second later. Come on, Jaune, you say to yourself. You hardly even know her. But you can't ignore the melancholic tug at your heartstrings. Can't take away the feeling that there's something wrong. You wish that she wasn't resting her chin on your shoulder, then you'd be able to see her face.

Ivory pushes you gently, and you belatedly realize that you're supposed to be dancing.

"Sorry about that," you tell her. "It's just...I didn't expect the song."

Ivory shakes in your shoulders, laughing. And its as painful as it is real.

"What'd you expect?" She asks you, almost mumbling.

"I dunno. Something a bit more...peppy."

Ivory leans away from her position on your shoulders. Green eyes stare at cobalt. Your feet moves, the slower pace doing wonders to help you regain your stamina, but you barely even register it. Ivory has a small, honest smile on her face. And you have to remind yourself of your convictions, lest you do something you'll regret.

"I like peppy songs, sure. But well, this kind of music resonates with me more, y'know?"

"Hey. I'm not dissing your taste in music, it's a kick-ass song - it's just a bit surprising is all. But surprising isn't bad."

You give her your best, most sincere smile. "And I'd like to learn more about you, see if you've got any more surprises for me."

She blushes, smile widening, and then she frowns. You start to worry that you've said something wrong when she looks down.

"You should really stop that." You barely catch her whisper.

"Stop what?"

"It's not good for me if you keep being all genuine and stuff. I just can't take it."

The song ends at that. And you're not quite sure what to say - whether to apologize, or ask for clarification or what. And just when you're about to open your mouth and say something, you hear it.

Loud - that's the first word that comes to mind. A harsh, intimidating sound that's almost as recognizable as it is alarming. A gunshot; and then after that, a dull sound, like something hitting the floor. Instinctively, you - and you're damn sure nearly everybody else in the building - look to where you think the noise originated from.

Red - the same shade as his tie, the same shade that most of the club is bathing in - it's hard to see, in this lighting, a thick, almost viscous looking thing that your brain completely glosses over for a second, out of sheer disbelief. Someone screams, either a man or a woman, you're not sure, as you finally identify what exactly it is you're seeing: blood.

Two bouncers lie dead on the ground, guns clasped in tightened fists, suits dyed an even darker shade of crimson from the multiple gunshot wounds dotting from their torsos to their necks. They've fallen in front of the lobby door - they must've ran from the main entrance. Which means...

...that their killers aren't going to be far behind.

Ivory shouts something over all of the panic. You hear someone retching in the background. People are screaming. The bodyguards are trying to keep order, but its fucking pandemonium in here. Eventually all of the noise drowns itself out in your ears, forming into one single bleeping noise that drones on and on. Is this even real? It doesn't feel real.

You're breathing hard, you're feeling faint. Exhaustion from the dancing combines with the panic, and makes your heart practically smash itself against your rib-cage - that's how hard it's beating.

You know, in some distant corner of your mind, that panicking is not going to help in this situation. But...

You just can't stop staring at the bodies. WhatifthathappenstoyoutoIvoryto-!

"Jaune!" Your cheek stings. Your mind rattles in your skill. You feel slender fingers forcefully turning your chin towards a direction that isn't facing the bodies, but instead - green eyes. Ivory is a rock in a storm, features set into a stoic countenance that miraculously calms you.

"Are you with me?" She asks, very calmly and gently, eyes softening. You nod mutely, still rattled beyond belief, but now cognizant. She nods in satisfaction, even offering you a tight smile as Junior - wielding what seems to be rocket launcher - hollers at the panicking crowd, leading them into some sort of backroom.

Ivory bites her lips for a second, and then seems to come to a decision. Reaching into her pocket, and pulling out...

"A gun?!" You hiss. "Ivory, what-!"

Before you can finish, Ivory puts a gun in your hands, reaching somewhere else in her suit and pulling out another, identical gun. White, to your black.

"Listen," she starts, looking into your eyes and practically pleading for you to cooperate with her. "I don't have a lot of time. I need you to go with Junior and the others, he'll protect you. And if he somehow can't." She gestures the gun held in your quivering hands. "Then that will."

She then gives you a smile, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll entrust it to you."

"It's..." She screws her eyes shut. "Very important to me. So you better be alive to give it back."

"I don't even know how to use a gun!" You protest.

Her smile turns sardonic. "Then you better learn quick."

Then Ivory turns around, walking near the entrance, where her fellow employees - wielding guns and hatchets - and the twins you saw earlier are employing the tables as makeshift shield. You even spot the bear-head DJ, caressing what seems to be a tommy gun while he takes cover behind the booth. You realize that they're acting as the first and last line of defense, to protect the others huddled in the back-room.

"Wait, where are you going!?" You call out to Ivory's back. She doesn't answer.

You glance back, at where Junior is still corralling the panicked guests into the room. And then you look forward to where Ivory is barking out orders like a seasoned commander, placing men in certain position while keeping an eye on the entrance. She looks tense, fingers tightening on the white grip of her handgun.


AN

As this was a Quest on Questionable Questing (holy alliterations, Batman), it's written is second person. I could spend time changing it to either first or third person, but eh, I think this works fine enough. You can participate in the Quest on the aforementioned website, it's under the name 'Nobody Quest' penned under the same username I have here. Hop on, and decide the course of the story, if you fancy it. You've gotta make an account though, as its under the NSFW section.

Oh, and speaking of NSFW - yes, there will be lemons. I'm not saying that It's gonna turn into a gigantic fuck-fest, but there will be sex. Better hop off if you're not into that.